


and I know you'll understand

by likewinning



Category: Hawkeye (Comics), Marvel (Comics)
Genre: Comment Fic, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-04
Updated: 2015-05-04
Packaged: 2018-03-28 23:25:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 608
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3873847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/likewinning/pseuds/likewinning
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>She's always impatient when he gets like this, when he acts like maybe he sees her as anything but his kid sister, his replacement, his – whatever.</em>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	and I know you'll understand

"Katie," Clint says. "Katie Katie Katie."

He's drunk, of course. Kate is _not_ drunk, but she had a couple beers, even though Clint kept telling her, between his own shots of whiskey, that she was too young to drink.

"Twenty-one, Barton," Kate reminded him, and then she kicked his ass at pool and helped him into a taxi.

So now – now, she's walking him up the stairs, and he's leaning into her and saying her name, like he might forget it if it doesn't. She's impatient – she's always impatient when he gets like this, when he acts like maybe he sees her as anything but his kid sister, his replacement, his – whatever.

They're at the door and she turns to look at him. His eyes are kind of fucked up and he has a stupid bandage on his head from falling off the couch and hitting the coffee table a couple of days ago, and he's still stupidly, annoyingly attractive.

"Yeah, Barton?" she asks. She props Clint against the door and starts digging in her pockets for his spare key.

"Katie," he says again, quieter this time. He won't stop _looking_ at her, and it's making her crazy, because usually –

Usually, she can't get him to look at her without him wincing away, like something about her just pains him.

"Barton," she says. She finds the keys, gets right in his face. "Spit it the fuck out before I tuck you in, okay? You're gonna have one hell of a hangover tomorrow."

Clint nods like he knows, of _course_ he knows, and then he looks at her and it's – different. "I just," he says. "You make me want to be a better man." He smiles, and Kate feels her hands start to shake, and she doesn't even shake when she's fighting bigger and stronger people, people with guns, people who could snap her in half. He smiles and adds, "Well, or at least you make me want to pretend to be better."

He smells like whiskey and smoke, like the coffee he spilled on himself this afternoon when she came by, like sweat, like salt from the peanuts he ate by the handful at the bar. He smells like what she wants, and Kate pushes him against the wall, gets right into his space and says, "You're just fine the way you are, Barton. Now let's get you to bed."

Everything's normal, more or less, for a minute. She gets him inside, fills a glass with water and picks a couple of aspirin off the floor where they spilled god knows how long ago, waits for him while he brushes his teeth. When he comes out of the bathroom he looks more alert, and he stares at her like he's not sure what she's doing here.

"Katie," he says, and she licks her lips, steps up to him, says, "I left you some aspirin. Take at least two, and drink that whole glass of water. And –"

She stops when Clint grabs her hand, wraps his fingers around her tiny wrist. He's warm, and she feels the calluses on his thumbs, feels _everything_. He takes her hand up to his mouth, kisses her pulse, and she wants to grab him, wants to just pull him down towards her and –

"Don't know what I'd do without you, Hawkeye," he says, and Kate thinks a thousand things in the second it takes her to roll her eyes. "About the same, but with more injuries, Hawkeye," she fires back.

Clint laughs and lets her go, and she stays in the living room until she hears Clint snoring. Then she heads on home.


End file.
